


Gunslinger

by RynxMusic



Category: Teamiplier - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blackmail, Established Relationship, Gunplay, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:55:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22542121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RynxMusic/pseuds/RynxMusic
Summary: “I think,” Mark continues in his theatrical cadence always saved for the situations Ethan will hate, “That you owe a personal apology to me.”
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Comments: 9
Kudos: 145





	Gunslinger

**Author's Note:**

> this fic works better if you read the horrible thing i wrote in 2016 based on the now-deleted I Want To Believe  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/8848342/chapters/20289991
> 
> i wrote this... thing at 3:40am and i have work in literally under 4 hours and i have not slept so if you see typos congrats you caught me slippin i dont care enough to fix them
> 
> the video ethan's watching: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gjvFLuJFkgU

_“If you laugh, you lose.”_

Ethan’s phone echos in the empty living room. Spencer dozes on the other side of the couch, and Ethan extends his leg just enough that he can rub Spencer’s front paw with his toes. 

_“Alright, start now. I’ll - I’ll go with you."_ He sniffles and swaps the hand holding his phone, idly fiddles with extending and retracting his PopSocket as he’s watching. _“...Wazzat say? Dank... Dopths?”_

A smile breaks across his lips, but he tries very hard to retain composure and disguise his desire to laugh under a strong exhale through his nose. The voice on his phone, however, breaks out into a laugh so intense it sounds like a mixture of intense coughing and desperate wheezing, coupled with a sharp inhale and an extremely monotone _“I lost.”_ and that’s what breaks his silence as a quiet wheeze breaks past his poorly attempted poker face.

“Who’s that?” Mark’s voice makes Ethan jump in his seat. 

He doesn’t really pay mind to it when something cold and solid taps the back of his skull in the movement. His heart’s rapid flutters against his ribcage are too much of a distraction. He lets out a slow exhale and shuts his eyes tight, taps his phone screen to stop the video, and then laughs softly to himself.

“You fucking scared me,” He says in an exhale, sitting up and reposition himself to look over his shoulder.

When he does, however, he nearly falls off his couch. 

There’s a mess of stammering and high-pitched incoherent yells of pain and confusion as Ethan processes the pellet gun that’s pointed directly at him. 

Mark has _that l_ ook on his face and when his other hand is raising his index finger to Ethan, the studdering from the younger male dies down significantly. 

“Ethan.” He begins, voice measured and low, “I’m sure you remember that you nearly missed an upload yesterday.”

The bizarre level of this situation fully hits Ethan with this statement. They already filmed the video for this, and Amy isn’t standing behind him with a camera.

“And I think,” Mark continues in his theatrical cadence always saved for the situations Ethan will hate, “That you owe a personal apology to me.” 

A silence is held between them for several seconds, and Ethan picks up that it’s his line now. 

“And how…. Would I go about that?” He says his words slowly, cautiously.

“I’m sure you can use that pretty little head and think of something,” Mark says with a smirk, tightening his grip in the gun. 

The pounding of Ethan’s heart against his ribcage is persistent, but Ethan brings himself to stand and slowly step around the armrest of the couch and stand before Mark. They trade eye contact for about a minute before Ethan steps closer and breaks all distance between them.

His lips first press to the corner of Mark’s jaw, then his cheek, and finally landing a soft peck to his lips. His smile afterward is all goofy and joyous, and he adds in a whispered _sorry_ and raises his hand to squeeze Mark’s side. 

Ethan pulls back and extends his neck with his head cocked to the side, eyebrows raised, lips in a tight line, expression clearly saying ‘Are we good now?’ while his hands are raised and still in an incredulous shugging pose. 

“All is forgiven,” Mark says with a restrained smile, tossing the gun onto the couch and wrapping his arms around Ethan’s waist.

**Author's Note:**

> im back to crankiplier
> 
> hit me up on tumblr @1000trillionpercent


End file.
